


Forgiveness

by Sebastian_the_Mercat



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebastian_the_Mercat/pseuds/Sebastian_the_Mercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan Prescott has done the unforgivable and both he and David Madsen know this. However, is there hope for both of them to heal? For Nathan to gain the father figure he has always needed and for David to let go of his past? We shall see - after all, life is strange...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations dearies! This took several days to get off the ground, but whatever! Just take it!
> 
> Warnings: Mental illness, PTSD, verbal/physical abuse, trauma, rape, suicidal thoughts/actions, eating disorder, cursing, im so sorry, have patience with David
> 
> Pairing: None! This focuses on a mentoring relationship between David and Nathan...because that boy needs a good father figure.
> 
> Important note: This was written after the release of episode 5. Taking off from the "sacrifice chloe" ending. This focuses mainly on forgiveness and understanding, both from Nathan and David. Enjoy!

"Mr. Prescott. Open your eyes."

A gruff voice. Loud, but distant. Was it friendly? Was it going to hurt him?

He shook his head minutely.

"Look at me, Prescott."

No. He didn't want to. He shook his head again, bowing it low. His breathing hitched.

He was cold.

A heavy sigh. "Fine. Be that way."

There was the sound of fabric against...something. Shifting. Removing? Clothes being removed? His hands moved to grip the waistband of his pants, causing the sound of clanking metal to echo in his head. His hands were bound? How?!

But...these binds were metal. Not duct tape.

Nathan slowly opened his eyes, but refused to lift his head, instead staring at the metal table.

The room was dark, but where he sat was bright.

Just like...

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut again. Total darkness was better than that.

Another heavy sigh filled his ears. "Why do I have to be here? Why can't you conduct this pointless investigation on your own?" The same gruff voice from before.

There was the sound of feet shifting from behind Nathan he flinched at the unexpected noise. "He was nearly catatonic when I tried to question him. I felt it would be better to have a familiar face."

"I don't give a rat's ass," the gruff voice snapped. "He killed Chloe. We all know this. He sang about Jefferson for hours after he was first brought in. What more is there to do?"

A sigh, this one coming from the person behind Nathan. "We still don't know of his involvement in that business. We know he was there and witnessed things, but he never specifically stated what HE did, how HE was involved - only that he was."

A sudden bang filled the room. Nathan's eyes flew open, to see David Madsen's fist planted firmly on the table. "Why the fuck does it MATTER?!" he yelled.

Nathan stared at the fist, at the muscles tensing in it, the grinding of the man's bones. Without warning, Nathan let out a dry sob, hunching his shoulders.

After the solitary sound, the room went silent, as Officer Berry and David stared at the teenage boy.

Berry sighed. "David, please remain calm. I know you don't want to be here. I don't either, and I'm pretty sure Mr. Prescott doesn't want to be here either. Correct?"

David ignored him. He pushed his seat forward, metal grating against metal from the action. "Fine. You heard him, Prescott," David snapped. "Talk."

Nathan shivered. His eyes finally lifted, meeting the dark, loathing eyes of David Madsen.

David narrowed his eyes, glaring even harder as the watery blue eyes gazed at him pitifully in apparent confusion.

Nathan winced, but couldn't look away. What was he supposed to say that he hadn't already? He confessed to killing Chloe Price! He told them about Jefferson and the Dark Room! He had already said everything he was guilty for!

What more did they WANT?!

"What do you w-want me to say?" Nathan asked. His voice came out surprisingly steady, only quivering a little half-way through. His tone sounded desperate, true, but the stutter came more from the fact he was cold. He noticed his coat laying on the interrogation table, leaving him in only his white cardigan. On top of that, his meds were probably close to wearing off...in fact, how long had it been? Since he had taken his meds? It had been the morning of when he had...the bathroom...and that was in the middle of the morning...how long had it been? Him being pressed to the bathroom floor...someone...on top of him...and he...in that bathroom. . .

. . . h e . . .

. . . . . .

! !

! !

who else who else who else did he accidentally cause the death of?

He ! ! is ! ! a ! !

! !

! MURDERER !

! MONSTER !

and it wasn't the first time

he! i! never...

never meant for anyone

...to...

. . . get . . .

. . . . . .

Nathan brought his chained hands up to his face, digging his chewed up nails into his face as he screamed. Or...at least he thought he screamed - he heard nothing, only it wasn't nothing - there was begging, pleading, of Them. The Girls. The Ones he let be hurt by Him. He knew. He knew that He hurt people - He hurt him...but then again he let Him hurt him, didn't he? It was...his fault?! Right, he was a murderer. No better.

No better than Him.

So what if he was "used"? So what if he was a "victim" too?

Sound and feeling rushed back to Nathan, as he felt two pairs of hands, trying to pry his hands away from his now bloodied face. He was, in fact, screaming - but it wasn't just white noise, it was words.

"I'm sorry! Please, I just want...I just want to be PUNISHED!" he screamed, his eyes wide but unseeing. "HURT me! KILL me! Do THINGS to me! Just make me GOOD! I want to be a GOOD BOY! Please! Make me GOOD! I want to be a good boy! Please hurt me! Please! I'm so sorry!"

There was a sharp pinch in his neck, and panic flooded him, as his body grew heavy. Through half-lidded eyes, brimming with tears, he looked past the shocked faces of the men supporting his now dead-weight body. An apparition appeared above him, just glowing eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses and a sharp-toothed cheshire smile.

"I...jus' wanna... be . . . g o o d..."

The next time he awoke, he was in a place that was impossibly bright - his head felt like it was stuffed-full of cotton and his body felt like it was made out of lead. His vision swam in and out of focus, until he was finally able to look around.

He was...was he in a hospital?

No...hospitals don't have bars on the windows...

Suddenly, it all came flooding back to him. His life. Who exactly he was. What he had...done...

It all seemed like some sort of distant dream...or nightmare. Was he really who he was? Had he really done all of those bad things? Everything about his life seemed...wrong, and distant.

Was he even real?

He opened his mouth, allowing his hoarse voice to croak out, "Nathan ... Prescott..."

It sounded right...and yet...there was something so wrong about it.

He closed his eyes against the brightness of the room. However, his eyes flew open seconds later, when his door creaked open.

"-should be waking up soon - ah, Mr. Prescott," a man dressed in scrubs greeted, nodding towards him. Nathan did not recognize him.

However, he was followed by David Madsen. Nathan tensed up and began shaking, as those dark eyes glared at him.

Chloe...Price...David Madsen's step-daughter... David Madsen... trust? do not trust?

Nathan shook his head, trying to think clearly. The doctor was talking to him.

"I'm Dr. Marsh, and I will be the one conducting your physical exam," the man explained.

Nathan felt his shakes increase. Marsh...Marsh as in Kate Marsh...her father... yes, they share the same eye color and hair color, oh god...

Dr. Marsh, seemingly becoming aware of Nathan's distress reached towards him, hesitating when he flinched. "Easy...I am just going to undo your binds..."

Nathan blinked, confused. Only then did he notice that he was restrained, bound by some padded white straps to the bed he laid on. His breathing increased, as he tugged lightly on the binds, however, Dr. Marsh worked quickly, releasing him. Nathan immediately brought his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees. His eyes darted between David's furious eyes and Dr. Marsh's calm and stoic ones.

These were the fathers of girls he hurt...why were they there? Why was he there for that matter? Where exactly was he?!

?

Nathan.

Nathan Prescott. Murderer. Monster. That's who he was.

Were these men here to punish him?

That thought caused Nathan to pause. He suddenly didn't feel as...afraid, anymore. After all, what right had he to feel fear? After what he did? Drugging girls for Him, helping Him take pictures...drugging Kate, killing Rachel, killing Chloe? What right did he have to fear pain? To fear punishment? Nathan was as bad as Him.

He deserved to be called every horrible word in existence.

He deserved to be beaten within an inch of his life, bleeding out.

He deserved to be pushed onto his stomach, as these men did to him what He did to Nathan and all those girls...

He deserved to finally be murdered, because what murderer deserves mercy?

Certainly not him.

Dull voices reached him, finally. Nathan blinked in confusion, looking up at the men he forgot were there. Except... the expressions on their faces had changed - now they were just staring at him with shocked and horrified expressions, their eyes wide with confusion.

Ah. He had been speaking his thoughts...a habit his father and Him had been trying to get him to drop.

Nathan swallowed, his fingers digging into his legs.

"Mr. Pres...Nathan," Mr. Marsh tried. Nathan's dull eyes swung up to meet the man's eyes. "It...is...we need to conduct your physical examination..." Mr. Marsh whispered.

Nathan took a deep, shuddering breath. Slowly, he stood on wobbly legs, staring blankly at the floor as the men awkwardly glanced at each other. "Do what you want," Nathan whispered.

David stood near the door, weapon at the ready should Nathan try anything.

As if he would. David scoffed internally, before focusing his attention back on Dr. Marsh and the Prescott boy.

The physical examination had started out simply enough - height and weight, checking eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Aside from a few dulling bruises on the boy's face from when David tackled him to the ground, he didn't see anything wrong with him.

Apparently Dr. Marsh must have, though, as he wrote for long periods of time on his clipboard.

Eventually, he asked Nathan to remove his shirt. The boy froze, his body becoming almost unnaturally tense, before he took a deep breath and did as asked.

David ground his teeth. He hated how long this ridiculous charade was going on - he hated how much time he was having to spend around the murderer of his Chloe. It made him feel physically ill that Nathan was being coddled like this, treated like he was a delicate flower or some shit.

However, in spite of the overwhelming hatred that burned in his heart, David Madsen was a protective person, especially over those who were weaker than him. True, he was rather rough in his worry and most of his emotions for that matter...but he was not head security guard at Blackwell for nothing.

David was also intuitive, noticing many things others could not. Where Dr. Marsh could see obvious physical issues with the boy, David could see so much more, mental-wise. PTSD, shock, distancing himself from reality, the few murmured words David managed to catch...

As much as David wanted to hate Nathan with every ounce of his being, as much as he wanted to blame everything on the boy...the fact that Nathan was exhibiting these specific symptoms paired with the fact that Mark Jefferson now sat in prison...

How much could a mentally ill kid who had been abused and manipulated by a psychopath be hated? A lot, David imagined, however, he didn't feel he would ever be able to hate Nathan as much as he'd like to.

A small sound brought him out of his musings. The doctor had laid a hand on Nathan's back, probably trying to examine the horrific bruise (one of many) on his shoulder blade. The boy had flinched, whimpering, hunching over. This action only caused his emaciated figure to appear all the more pathetic.

The action also caused Dr. Marsh to wince, his eyes pained. He swallowed, before quietly ordering Nathan to remove his pants.

It wasn't an odd request - it was typical of a physical. Nathan probably knew that too, but none of that mattered.

Nathan flinched his thin fingers gripping the waistband of his pants, just as he had done in the interview.

David would be lying if he said his stomach didn't flip flop at the implications.

The doctor seemed to be having similar thoughts. He swallowed, shakily writing something down in his notes. However, both him and David looked back to the boy, watching in shock as he slowly undid the tie on his pants, allowing them to drop, pooling around his ankles. He stepped out of them, before wrapping his arms around his torso, shivering.

He wasn't wearing any underwear - David had expected that.

He had even expected marks, some bruising.

He hadn't expected the horrifying scarring... the dried blood... and... other substances...

David swallowed back the bile creeping up his throat. He needed to get out of there.

"I'm going to wait outside," he said gruffly, hoping his voice didn't waver. He didn't even hear a reply from Dr. Marsh, before he was out the door, leaning against it.

He felt like he could be sick.

Squeezing his eyes shut, David placed a hand over his mouth. In all the time Nathan talked about Jefferson, he never mentioned that the sick man did anything to him - in fact, he never said a word about himself, except for admitting in the beginning he was involved in the situation.

This was bigger than Chloe. And this had all been happening right under his nose.

For some reason, though, the fact that there had been a boy walking around,hurting from the abuse of a teacher, someone that boy was supposed to be able to trust...the fact that that boy had bruises and scars and welts that were fresh, the fact that he had been...

David breathed in a shuddering breath.

And he...HE had ignored the signs. Oh, he had noticed the obvious signs of trauma, the flinching, the words the boy muttered under his breath when he thought no one could hear, the occasional marks that would appear...David had chalked it up to all coming from Sean Prescott. He had chalked it up to rightful punishment being enacted on a deserving child.

Nothing about this situation was right, though. Not what had been done to the boy, not the fact of who had been doing it, and certainly not the way David had handled the situation.

He sunk down against the wall, resting his head on his knees. And now...his neglect of Nathan had caused someone to get hurt, someone to get killed...Chloe...

The door opened, jolting David out of his reverie. Immediately he was on his feet, watching as a very pale Dr. Marsh closed the door to the hospital room.

David crossed his arms. "What did he say?"

"Not a word," Dr. Marsh said. "Not that that's anything different from how he's been acting."

He sighed heavily, sinking down the wall as David had just done. David kneeled beside him, his lips pursed.

"What that man did to that poor boy...no wonder he is so "messed up"," Dr. Marsh whispered, a hand resting over his mouth. "The bruising...the lacerations and old scars...damn it all, the boy was raped!"

David stared at the normally composed doctor in shock. Of course, he had inferred as such. However...to hear his suspicions confirmed aloud...

Dr. Marsh suddenly cleared his throat, standing once more. "I assume you plan on continuing with your investigation into his involvement with the Dark Room?"

David nodded. Dr. Marsh sighed slightly, before giving a nod. "If...I may request something?"

David gave him a suspicious look, but nodded once more.

Dr. Marsh closed his eyes, holding his clipboard to his chest. "I...understand you are grieving your step daughter. But...please...I beg of you...do not take your grief out on that child. I have witnessed his physical trauma, as you have, and I can only imagine how deep his mental and emotional scars run...if there's any hope of him getting better, I do not want it dashed away because you were too rough in an interview."

David felt a bit of rage build up in his heart. He opened his mouth but Dr. Marsh continued.

"For it to be possible for you to move on, you are going to have to forgive. I know you wish not to right now, and I understand that-"

"You understand nothing! Your daughter is still alive!"

"Alive," Dr. Marsh said patiently, "and suffering from severe depression and anxiety due to the trauma she experienced in that hellish room."

David stood silent.

Dr. Marsh sighed. "Don't rush forgiveness, but don't deny it either. I doubt the boy was completely responsible for Chloe's death, just as I know he wasn't completely responsible for Kate's kidnaping."

David ground his teeth. "What do you want me to say?"

Dr. Marsh was unfazed by the harsh tone of David's voice. "Only what you mean."

"You want me to say what I mean? What I'm feeling? How about this: That little fucker is the one responsible for Chloe's death. There will be no healing for her, no "getting better". She's gone, Marsh, and she's never coming back! And it's that murderer's fault!" David took a deep breath. "I don't give a fuck what's been done to the brat because, guess what? He probably deserved it. Don't you dare, don't you FUCKING dare talk to me like you know, like you understand me and what I'm going through."

Dr. Marsh bowed his head. "Perhaps...I don't understand."

David huffed, glaring through the window on the door of Nathan's room, meeting the boy's scared eyes briefly. Nathan flinched.

David turned back to the doctor. "I'm going to conduct the interview as quickly and efficiently as possible. Then I'm gone, got that?"

Dr. Marsh nodded, already walking away. At the doctor's silence, David felt his stomach flip. However, he shook his head, turning back to the door.

After all, he had a job to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably make this a two-three shot idk. In any case, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a review!


End file.
